They move like whispers across the earth,
silent grace woven into every step.
Carrying stories of where you've been,
and dreams of where you will go.
Delicate yet strong,
rooted like ancient trees,
but light as the breeze that stirs the leaves.
Each curve, each line,
a map of quiet power,
a rhythm that speaks without words.
Your feet-
not just a part of you,
but apart of everything.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem